Iris
by MercurialLily
Summary: Assassin AU. Natalya has spent most of her life on the unforgiving streets of Minsk. When she is abducted and offered a position in the mysterious Agency, how can she refuse? But she is unaware of the horrors she will face... T.
1. Chapter 1

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Iris  
Rating: T  
Pairing: None**

 **So I don't entirely remember what inspired the idea for this, but it combines several of my interests (including history and weaponry). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!**

 **There will be individual warnings for each chapter, but I'll just give all of them here so you know what you're getting yourself into: mentions of alcohol and drug use, sex (consensual and non-con), suicide, prostitution, violence, blood/gore, and death. You're in for a fucking ride.**

 _"Get out of here."_

 _"No, I can't leave you!"_

 _"And you can't take me with you! Listen to me. Please. If you don't leave, we'll both die. I can't have that. Just...go."_

 _"But -"_

 _"Go! Now!"_

. . . . .

 _October 6, 1993, Minsk_

The rain fell steadily, the drops pattering against the pavement. People on the street hunched over as the wind tossed them about. A man stood under the overhang of a butcher shop, smoking a cigarette. His light jacket didn't seem to be keeping him very warm. A young woman sat on the steps of a lodging house, a baby in her arms, a small child of two or three on the steps beside her. She was trying to soothe her crying baby. A skinny grey cat darted across the street.

Natalya barely noticed any of this. She kept her head down, avoiding the eyes of passers-by. Her tattered coat and torn stockings were doing little to keep her warm, but they were all she had, so she couldn't complain. If anything, she wanted better shoes. The ugly wooden sandals on her feet were at least two sizes too small and ridiculously painful to walk in. The blisters she had gave proof of this. _Maybe I should just go barefoot,_ she thought. At least the bow in her hair was in relatively good condition. She still looked cute.

Her stomach growled, and she thrust her hand into her pocket, feeling around for money. She felt nothing. Glancing up, she saw a seemingly well-to-do man standing on the street corner, reading the paper. He could be a good target. Natalya's steps became more deliberate. Twenty strides away. Then fifteen. Ten. Five...

The man didn't even notice Natalya's small hand slide into the pocket of his jacket. Nor did anyone else see her pull the wallet out and hide it under her coat. She was able to get away with drawing any attention to herself.

Natalya ducked into the doorway of a shop and opened the wallet, digging through it for money, cards, anything. All she found were three rubles and a few kopeks. It wasn't enough to buy even half a loaf of black bread. She'd have to find money some other way.

Mussing up her hair, Natalya made her way toward the dodgier end of the city. Most people avoided it as much as they could - the streets were filled with drug dealers, prostitutes, and other kinds of seedy folk. But Natalya knew it well. To her, it was home. Technically, it _was_ her home, seeing as she had no flat to call her own.

Life on the streets was not easy for a girl of seventeen. She had been quite young when her parents died, leaving her to fend for herself, and she had no memory of a dry home or warm food. For years, she had spent much of her time begging on street corners, her only clothes being a threadbare dress, a scarf, and one shoe. As she grew older, she became adept at stealing - food, clothes, money, whatever she could get her hands on. She was desperate for work, but no one would hire her. So, with very few other options, Natalya became a part of the criminal underground. Her main trade was pickpocketing, but she also engaged in everything from selling drugs and other illegal substances to breaking and entering. She even worked as a more-than-occasional prostitute. That was often the quickest way to earn money, but it was also the most disgusting. She was frequently surprised at the number of men who were willing to fuck a young girl. However, even that didn't deter her. She did what she had to do to get money.

She approached a stocky, dark-haired man skulking around a burnt-out building. "Hey, Maks," she said, careful to keep her voice low. "You got anything for me to sell tonight?"

Maks shook his head. "Sorry, toots. Should have more by tomorrow, though."

"Tomorrow? I haven't eaten in two days because of your low supply. You've got to have something," Natalya pressed.

"Nope. Come back tomorrow."

With a scowl, Natalya sauntered off. Part of her wanted to rough him up a bit, just to make sure he was telling the truth, but she knew better. Maks had beaten her up before, so she had learned to control herself.

If it wasn't so cold, she would have taken off her coat and undone her shirt a bit to attract potential customers. Maybe if she just tried to look sexy, that would do the trick. The other working girls, most of whom were much older than she was and far less attractive, regarded her coldly as she leaned against the wall of a redbrick building, one hand on her hip. She felt ridiculous, but there was a chance it would work.

It took a while, but finally a man came over to her. He was reasonably good-looking, tall, and well-dressed. He looked like he'd have a good amount of money on him. Natalya put on a seductive smile as he asked, "You on the job?"

"Of course. Follow me." Natalya turned and walked a little ways before slipping into an alleyway. The man went with her. Taking a deep breath, Natalya let her coat fall to the ground. Then she pressed her back against the rough wall.

It was over in five minutes. Natalya immediately reached for her coat and pulled it around herself. She shivered and stamped her feet, then held out her hand expectantly. The man sighed and pressed some bills into her hand. He left shortly after.

Natalya counted the bills. It wasn't as much as she would have preferred, but it was enough to put some food in her stomach. If she was lucky, she might be able to convince someone to let her have a quick shower.

She straightened her clothes and smoothed down her hair. She was about to turn and walk out of the alley when her arms were grabbed and pulled behind her back. She struggled and thrashed, attempting to cry out, but a cloth was pressed over her mouth. She began to feel light-headed. _Is this...how I die? Is this the end?_ As she faded, she heard muffled voices speaking in a foreign tongue - Polish, perhaps. Then everything went black.

 _ **A/N:**_ **Kopeks are subdivisions of rubles (like how cents are subdivisions of dollars).**

 **This is going to be a pretty intense story, so I hope you're ready to buckle down and enjoy. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Iris  
Rating: T  
Pairing: None**

 **Slight mention of drugs, alcohol, and suicide in this chapter.**

 _October 6, 1993, unknown road_

"So you want to know what I said back to that guy?"

"Shh, she's waking up."

Natalya groaned softly and opened her eyes. She felt extremely nauseous. It took her a minute to realize that she was lying down. As she cautiously sat up, she discovered two things - she was in a car, and her hands were cuffed in front of her. She struggled for a time to get free, but eventually gave up when she came to the conclusion that the handcuffs were stronger than she was. Only then did she notice the two people sitting across from her.

A man and a woman in perfectly pressed suits. Both were blonde. The man had a slightly androgynous look and sparkling eyes; the woman's features were soft and round, and she wore a gentle smile on her face.

Natalya was very confused. She remembered that she could talk, and she opened her mouth to speak. Her voice was hoarse, likely because she had been unconscious up until now. "Who are you?" she asked in Belarusian. When the two looked perplexed, she repeated herself in Russian.

The woman gestured to herself. "I'm Yekaterina Chernenko," she said. "Call me Katya, if you prefer." Then she gestured to the man beside her. "This is Feliks Łukasiewicz."

"That doesn't really explain much."

"Yes, I understand you must be in shock. But there's no reason to panic," Katya said. "We're going to help you. We need you for something, you see."

"What the hell could you possibly need me for?" Natalya held up her hands. "And why'd you have to handcuff me?"

"Some people react badly when they wake up from being chloroformed. Feliks, if you will."

"Yep." Producing a small key from his breast pocket, Feliks leaned forward and unlocked the cuffs. As soon as her hands were free, Natalya curled into a defensive position, rubbing her wrists.

"We need you for a... _special_ reason," Katya said vaguely. "You'll learn more once we get to our destination."

Natalya rolled her eyes. "Where's that?" she asked. "Hell?"

"Warsaw."

"Huh?"

"You know, the capital of Poland..." Feliks said.

"Yeah, yeah, I know what it is. But why are you taking me there?"

"I just told you," Katya said.

With a grimace, Natalya looked out the window. After a few minutes, she glanced at Feliks and said, "You're a Pole, aren't you? I can tell from your name. Plus, you have an accent. And you..." She turned to Katya. "You have an accent too, but it's not as prominent. You're not Russian or Polish, but I know you're not Belarusian like me. I'm guessing you're from the Ukraine."

Katya smiled. "Indeed, you're correct. Now how about you tell us about yourself?"

Looking down at her knees, Natalya frowned. She had no idea who these people were, or what they wanted to do with her, so naturally she was hesitant to reveal details about herself. But there was a chance that they actually _could_ help her... What harm could come from simply stating her name and a few facts about her life? "My name's Natalya. Natalya Arlovskaya," she began. "I'm seventeen, from Minsk. My parents died when I was six, so I guess you could call me an orphan. I speak Belarusian and Russian, as you can tell. And I don't have a real job, but I work as a pickpocket."

"Interesting. Now..." Katya pulled a folded piece of paper out from the bag on her lap. As she unfolded it, she said, "As part of our screening process, I'm required to ask you some questions. Is that all right with you?"

"Sure. Whatever."

Katya took a pen from her pocket. "How tall are you?" she asked.

"I...don't know," Natalya replied. "I've never been measured."

"How much do you weigh?"

"If I don't even know how tall I am, do you really think I'll know that?"

"What's your date of birth?"

"August 25, 1976. I think."

"You've told us what languages you speak..." Katya wrote this down. "Have you ever or do you currently use drugs or alcohol?"

"No."

Katya squinted at Natalya. "No good will come if you lie to us," she said.

Natalya made a small noise and looked away. "Okay, fine," she said slowly. "Occasionally I'll have enough money to buy some really cheap, watered-down vodka. It never tastes that good, but it numbs me a bit, and I like that. As for drugs, no, never used any, but sometimes I sell them. It's good money."

"Have you ever been pregnant?"

"...Yes."

"And what happened?"

Natalya didn't answer. She clenched her fists and bit her lip.

"Natalya?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Natalya said quietly. Her voice was shaking slightly. "Please."

Katya and Feliks exchanged a look. Katya took a long time writing something down. Then she asked, "Have you ever attempted suicide?"

Natalya nodded. "A few times. As you can see, I never succeeded."

"Do you have any particular goals or aspirations for the future?"

"I guess." With a shrug, Natalya went on, "I'd like to get off the streets. It's really hard when you're broke as shit and your country's economy sucks to make any lifestyle changes. So..."

Katya nodded. She turned to Feliks and whispered something to him. Feliks looked out the window and whispered something back. He tapped on the sheet of paper.

Natalya observed them carefully. She glanced out the window as well and saw a large, industrial-style building up ahead. There was a sign nearby, but it was in Polish, a language Natalya didn't know. She wondered what it said.

As if she could read her mind, Katya said, "This is the Agency for Public Well-Being and Safety. We often refer to it simply as the Agency."

"What do you do here?" Natalya asked. She felt the car come to a stop.

"Come inside and we'll tell you." Katya opened the car door, and she and Feliks stepped out. Hesitant at first, Natalya did the same. She had barely set her feet on the ground when a gun was pushed into her face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Iris  
Rating: T  
Pairing: None**

 **We'll meet some new characters in this chapter.**

 _October 6, 1993, Warsaw_

Natalya shouted and dropped to the ground, curling up into a ball. Her heart was pounding, and she trembled slightly.

"Toris, what the hell?" she heard Feliks say. She looked up.

A tall, dark-haired young man was the one holding the gun. Natalya found him somewhat dull, even though she'd only just encountered him. He seemed absolutely shocked as he lowered his gun.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was you," he apologized. "I heard that Vlad and Tino were coming back tonight, and -"

"It's all right, Toris," Katya said. She bent down to talk to Natalya. "This is an exercise we do. Sometimes when our workers return, we like to surprise them by giving them a little challenge, like holding them at gunpoint. They're tested on how quickly and efficiently they're able to diffuse the situation."

"Just what the hell have you dragged me into?" Natalya demanded as she stood up, dusting off her clothes.

Katya gestured to the building. "We train assassins here."

Natalya was dumbfounded. "I'm sorry, what?" she said.

"Assassins. Highly trained individuals who are assigned to various places to remove potential threats," Katya explained. "It's a difficult career, but we do what we have to. You understand, what with your experience on the streets."

"You brought me here so you can teach me how to kill people?" Natalya shook her head. "No, sorry, but I don't want to do this. I'd rather go back to where I was." She took a step back.

"I'd be careful if I were you," Katya warned.

"Why?"

"We have designated marksmen on the roof of our building." Katya pointed. Natalya couldn't see anything, but was there any reason for Katya to lie? After all, this _was_ a place where killers were trained. "All I have to do is give the signal, and you'll be shot dead in a matter of seconds. It's up to you."

Natalya stood still, weighing her options. She was fast, but there was no way she could outrun a bullet. She glanced at the three people standing near here. Toris was still holding his gun, Feliks was reaching behind his back, and Katya had her arms crossed, a calm yet commanding expression on her face. They likely wouldn't have any qualms about killing her.

"Have you made your choice?" Katya asked.

With a slow nod, Natalya replied, "Yes. I'll stay."

"Good." Katya gestured to Toris and Feliks, who moved forward and grabbed Natalya's arms. They dragged her down the gravel road to the front doors of the building. Feliks pulled a card from his pocket and scanned it, opening the doors. Once they were inside the building, Natalya observed her surroundings. Directly in front of her was an elevator. To the left was a large staircase. The tiles of the floor may have once been clean and shiny, and now they were worn and dull. The air was musty. Before she could look around more, she was pulled down the hall to a small room. Two women, both of plain appearance, greeted her.

Natalya had no idea what to expect. Once the door was closed behind her, one woman got a clipboard while the other stripped Natalya to her underwear. They poked and prodded her, lifted her arms over her head, made her reach down to touch her toes. After several minutes of this, she was made to stand on a scale. One of the women muttered in Russian, "Forty-four kilograms. Too skinny." Natalya was offended, but kept her mouth shut. The other woman got a tape measure and held it up to Natalya. "One hundred sixty centimetres."

 _Why are they doing this? And why did they have to take off my clothes? It's freezing in here!_ Natalya felt a shiver run through her body. She was extremely uncomfortable and anxious. She stifled a cry when the cold metal of a stethoscope was pressed to her back. Having grown up on the streets, she was unfamiliar with medical examinations. She decided that she didn't like them.

Her absolute least favourite part was when her mouth was forced open and a wooden stick was stuck down her throat. Her eyes watered, and she choked. It was oddly reminiscent of when she plied her trade in Minsk. She hadn't enjoyed it then, either.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the examination ended, and she was given a sweater and pants to put on. The clothes were rough and scratchy, but she tried to ignore it. "Can I go now?" she asked.

The women spoke to each other in rapid Polish, gesturing to both Natalya and the door. It was a while before one of them nodded and pointed to the door. "You may go," she said.

"Thanks." Natalya moved toward the door and turned the knob. She hoped that the hall would be empty. That way, she could attempt an escape. She didn't know the layout of the building or the surrounding area, but she had to give it a try.

But she wasn't so lucky.

She had barely stepped out into the hall when her arm was grabbed and she heard a Polish-accented voice say, "Come on. We're going to the conference room." She glanced over her shoulder and saw Feliks. Making a noise of protest, Natalya struggled and tried to free herself from his grip. But when she heard a click and felt the muzzle of a gun against her head, she stopped putting up a fight. She didn't like this place, nor did she enjoy being threatened with guns, but she didn't really have many other options. Bowing her head, Natalya let Feliks take her down a long hallway. They paused outside a pair of large doors. "This is it," Feliks said. "You'll meet the rest of our team here." He opened the doors and entered the room, pulling Natalya along with him.

The room was huge. Natalya had never seen anything like it before. The ceiling was very high, similar to that of a church or grand cathedral. Hung on the walls were incredibly detailed paintings of various landmarks, though with Natalya's limited knowledge of the world, she recognized very few. The floor was a deep blue carpet. There were no windows. In the centre of the room was a large table. Six people were sitting at this table.

Natalya recognized Katya and Toris, but the other four were unfamiliar. Feliks directed Natalya to a chair on the closest side of the table. Then he went to sit at the far end between Katya and Toris.

Natalya slowly sat down, feeling slightly uncomfortable being the centre of attention in front of all these people. The seats on her right were empty; everyone sat to her left.

One woman and three men. These people regarded her with varying degrees of curiosity.

The woman directly on her left had an attractive, youthful face, but her expression was one of disdain. Her long brown hair was bunched over her shoulder, and her arms were crossed. She tapped her foot against the floor. Natalya stiffened when she saw the pistol holster attached to the woman's skirt.

One man was small, with dark hair and a face distinctly different from anyone Natalya had ever seen. Natalya had heard of a country called Japan that was far away in the ocean. The people there reportedly looked very different from Europeans. Was he from that country? He kept his eyes down, his hands folded on his lap.

The man beside him was young, seemingly around Natalya's age. He wore glasses and a puffy brown jacket. Based on his expression, which was bright and curious, he seemed to be good-natured. Natalya sensed that he might be energetic and rambunctious, since his legs were bouncing under the table.

The next two seats were empty. Natalya wondered who sat there.

The last face was very youthful and also wore glasses. This man - more like a boy, really - was fiddling with a radio that sat in his lap. He was humming to himself and appeared completely oblivious to what was going on around him.

"Natalya, this is our team," Katya said. "You already know Feliks and Toris. And these are the other people who make up our team." She gestured and continued, "From my right, Eduard, Kiku, Alfred, and Elizabeta. Vladimir and Tino should be in later this evening."

Natalya nodded. "Okay. Now what?"

"Now..." Katya smiled and leaned forward so that her elbows were on the table. She rested her chin on the tops of her fingers. "Let's tell you just exactly what it is we do here."

 _ **A/N:**_ **What do you think of the story so far? I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Iris  
Rating: T  
Pairing: None**

 _October 6, 1993, Warsaw_

Before Katya could go on, the woman named Elizabeta stuck her thumb at Natalya and demanded, "Why is she in Viktoria's seat?" Her voice was sharp and bitter, as though Natalya had done something wrong. She also had an interesting accent.

"We've been over this," Katya responded coolly. "We needed to replace Viktoria, and this is who we found."

"It's too soon."

"I'm really sorry," Natalya piped up. "I can change seats if you want me to."

"No," Katya said bluntly. "That's your seat from now on." She looked at the others. "Would you care to properly introduce yourselves to Natalya?"

"Ooh!" The one named Alfred thrust his hand into the air.

"Yes, you can go first, Alfred."

"Okay, cool." Alfred leaned back in his chair so he could see Natalya. "Hi! My name's Alfred. I'm from New York. So yeah, I'm American. I'm pretty new here, like you. Nice to meet you!"

"...Nice to meet you, too," Natalya said. _He's American? His Russian's pretty good... Interesting._

The dark-haired man beside Alfred nodded in Natalya's direction. "Hello. My name is Kiku Honda," he said. His voice was soft and self-conscious. "I come from Japan. It is a pleasure to meet you." Natalya noted that his manner of speaking was very formal.

Elizabeta gave Natalya a sidelong glance. "Elizabeta Héderváry, from Budapest. I've been a part of this team for three years. I hope you know that this isn't an easy job."

"Thank you, Eliza, for being so optimistic," Katya said. To Natalya she said, "Yes, this job can be quite difficult, but that shouldn't discourage you. Your training will be very thorough and precise. I know you'll find something enjoyable during your time here."

"What sorts of things will I be trained in?" Natalya asked.

Katya didn't have time to respond, as the doors to the conference room were thrown open and two men of average height walked in. One was blonde and round-faced; the other had reddish-blonde hair and a slight grin. The blonde one had a long gun slung over his shoulder, which he deposited onto the table. He exchanged a few words with the one called Eduard, who by now had looked up. Eduard quickly wrote something down and passed the paper to Katya. Katya nodded and set the paper aside. Then she looked at Natalya and said, "Please meet Tino and Vladimir. They are also part of our team."

"Are you our new member? Nice to meet you! I'm Tino Väinämöinen," the blonde said. He held out his hand, and Natalya hesitantly shook it.

"Tino came to us from the Finnish military," Katya explained. "He had a confirmed sixty-eight kills during his service."

Tino shook his head and sat down. "Don't go around thinking that's a lot. I worked with others who logged many more kills than I did," he said.

Natalya was about to ask something, but she was interrupted by Vladimir saying to Katya, "What, you don't have an interesting fact about me?"

"Don't worry," Katya said. "Natalya, do you remember the revolution in Romania four years ago? Vladimir witnessed it first-hand."

Natalya's curiosity was piqued. "Really?" she asked.

Vladimir nodded. "I was a sixteen-year-old kid who was constantly getting in trouble, so I fit right in," he said. "It was a hectic ten days, but we succeeded."

"We're getting off topic. Everyone, if I could have your attention, please." Katya cleared her throat. She glanced at the watch on her wrist. "It's getting late. I imagine you're tired, Natalya. We'll reconvene tomorrow morning. Until then, Elizabeta will be taking care of you."

This obviously came as a shock to Elizabeta, as she opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly silenced by a wave of Katya's hand. She gave a quiet sigh of annoyance and looked away.

"New assignments will also be distributed tomorrow," Katya continued as she stood up. "And please remember that the shooting range does not open until eight." She said this with a pointed glance in Alfred's direction. Alfred, however, seemed unaware that the comment was addressing him.

After a brief pause, the others got up from their seats and made their ways out of the conference room. Natalya also stood up, unsure of where she was supposed to go. Elizabeta, who hadn't left yet, made a soft noise and said, "Come on, I'll show you to the dorms. Since Katya said I'll be looking after you, I imagine that means we're roommates now." Without giving Natalya a chance to respond, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room. Natalya followed her. For some time, the only sound was their footsteps through the hall.

The dorms were on the second floor near the back of the building. Elizabeta opened the third door on the right. She entered the room and gestured for Natalya to do the same. Taking a deep breath, Natalya followed Elizabeta into the room.

It was a relatively small room, with beige walls and hardwood floor. There were two beds on either side of the room, a table between them. Both beds were neatly made. A picture frame and a black phone sat on the table. A chest of drawers was against the wall by the door. A window on the far wall likely overlooked the back of the compound. Natalya moved toward it. She heard the door close behind her and, seconds later, a quiet click. She stopped walking and turned around, but she already knew what to expect.

Elizabeta was pointing her gun right at Natalya, a fierce expression on her face.

Natalya rolled her eyes. "Are you serious?" she said. "This is the third time today I've been threatened with a gun. It's starting to get old."

"Who are you?" Elizabeta demanded.

"I'm sorry?"

"Who are you? Why did they bring you here?" Elizabeta stepped closer. Instinctively, Natalya took a step back.

"What could you possibly want to know about me?" Natalya asked.

"Anything," Elizabeta replied sharply. "I don't care. Start talking."

"Okay. Hi, nice to meet you, I'm Natalya Arlovskaya," Natalya said, crossing her arms. "I'm from Minsk. My parents died when I was six. I'm seventeen now. I'm a pickpocket and occasional drug dealer and prostitute. My life is hell. Earlier today, two of your so-called team members kidnapped me and dragged me here." As she spoke, she began to notice that Elizabeta's expression was one of fear rather than of anger. She wondered why that was. "Look, could you just put the gun down? It's making me really uncomfortable."

It took a minute, but Elizabeta slowly lowered her gun. Instead of holstering it, she approached the bed on the right and sat down. She ejected the magazine and set the items at her side. Then she looked up at Natalya and said, "I'm sorry for...overreacting like that. I get anxious sometimes."

Taking this as an invitation, Natalya went to the other bed. As she sat down, she took a look at the picture on the table. It showed Elizabeta along with two other people, a man and a woman. The date on the picture was two years earlier. Elizabeta and the man were both smiling broadly, while the woman's smile was much subtler. Natalya didn't recognize the background.

Elizabeta noticed Natalya's interest in the picture. "Friends," she explained. "Fellow agents. He lives in Germany and she's...no longer with us."

"Oh." Natalya looked at Elizabeta. "Why don't you tell me about yourself? You said you're from Budapest?"

"That's right," Elizabeta said with a nod. "My father's a doctor, so I had a pretty good childhood. Both of my parents expected me to go to university and get a good job, but I dropped out after about three months." She looked up at the ceiling. "That's when I joined the Agency. Voluntarily, actually. I'd heard about it through some back channels, so naturally I was curious. In order to join, I had to completely sever all ties with my life in Budapest. And now my family thinks I'm dead." She sighed and went on in a quiet voice, "Katya said that was the only way to do it. That way they wouldn't come looking for me. You're lucky, in a sense, being an orphan. You have no connections to anyone."

This comment bothered Natalya, but she didn't say anything. Elizabeta was right, after all.

"Anyway, I bet you're tired, right? Try to get some sleep." Elizabeta put her gun on the table and reached for the phone. "I have to make a call. I'll try not to be too loud."

"All right. Uh, good night, I guess," Natalya said. She slowly lay down on the firm mattress. The feeling was entirely foreign to her. She was so used to sleeping in cold alleys and in doorways, her head resting on the hard concrete ground. The bed smelled clean and fresh, and it was wonderfully warm. She smiled and pulled the blanket over herself.

She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. She heard Elizabeta murmuring softly into the phone in German, the occasional laugh escaping her lips. With a contended sigh, Natalya drifted off to sleep.

 ** _A/N:_ I really hope you're enjoying this story. If you have any questions about anything, feel free to ask! There are certain things I can't answer because they will be revealed later on, but I will answer anything else. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Iris  
Rating: T  
Pairing: None**

 **Slight mention of suicide in this chapter.**

 _October 7, 1993, Warsaw_

"...Natalya! Hey, wake up. Natalya!"

Natalya opened her eyes. She was unable to restrain a cry of surprise when she saw Elizabeta standing over her. Running a hand through her hair, she mumbled, "What time is it?"

"Quarter to eight. You just missed breakfast," Elizabeta replied. "I'm technically not supposed to do this, but I brought you some food." She held out a bread roll.

"Oh. Thanks." Natalya took the bread roll. It was soft.

"We have to go down to the conference room soon," Elizabeta said as she went over to the chest of drawers. She pulled out a blouse and skirt, both of which were black, and brought them over to Natalya. "These might be a bit big on you, but try them on."

Natalya took the clothes and stood up. She turned so that her back was facing Elizabeta and quickly changed. The clothes hung slightly off her thin frame, but she didn't mind too much. Even though they weren't new, they were new to her. It was nice having pretty clothes.

"You can try some of my shoes, too," Elizabeta said. Natalya looked over her shoulder. Elizabeta had put her hair up in a bun and was attaching her pistol holster to the waistband of her skirt.

"Do you always wear that?" Natalya asked.

"My gun? Yeah, most of the time." Elizabeta put her gun into the holster and clipped the holster shut. "I'm not required to, but you never know when something might happen. Are you ready to go?"

Natalya nodded slowly. She waited for Elizabeta to move toward the door, then she followed her.

The halls were quiet and empty. Natalya felt a slight surge of anxiety run through her body. She was used to busy streets and hoards of people. Something like this was oddly frightening for her. At any moment, it felt like something could leap out at her.

When they reached the conference room, everyone else was already there. Katya was the first to speak. "You two are late."

"Sorry about that, Katya," Elizabeta said as she took her seat. Natalya sat beside her.

Katya went through the papers that lay in front of her. "I have your new assignments here," she said after a few minutes of silence. "Kiku, you're going to Lublin. There's an undercover mission for you there. Your train leaves in two hours. Vladimir, you're needed in Sofia as soon as possible. You remember Nikolai, yes? He'll brief you when you get there. Tino, you're lucky. You get the next few days off. Alfred, you'll be working with Eduard today testing some new technology. And Elizabeta, you'll be going to Frankfurt this evening. Your contact will meet you there. Take Natalya with you. Oh, and Natalya, you're scheduled at the shooting range for this morning. You may be new here, but you should still learn how to handle a gun sooner rather than later." She looked at Feliks and Toris. "Do you have anything to add?"

Toris shook his head. After a minute, Feliks said, "I can always tutor Natalya at the range, if necessary."

"That could be helpful. According to the sign-up sheet, Alfred will also be there," Katya said, looking up. "Alfred, would you like to teach Natalya a thing or two?"

Alfred shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Now, if there are no more questions, I believe we can end this meeting." Katya waved her hand and started to write something down. Natalya watched her curiously. She could read to some extent, but she had never learned how to write. It was something that fascinated her.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up.

Elizabeta was standing beside her, a smile on her face. "I'll show you to the shooting range, okay?" she said.

"Um, okay." Natalya stood up, and she and Elizabeta left the conference room and headed for the back of the building. She stayed quiet during the walk, when she happened to notice that Elizabeta had a very slight facial tic. It was infrequent and subtle. Natalya didn't recall seeing it the night before, but there were likely many things she hadn't processed. She didn't say anything about it, deciding it might be rude to ask.

At length they reached the outdoor shooting range. It was essentially a large field with targets set at varying distances. There were signs posted nearby. Natalya assumed that they listed rules and safety precautions.

Elizabeta pointed to a box that sat at the base of one of the signs. "Ear protection is in there," she said. "They basically look like ear muffs. You wear them so you don't blow out your eardrums when you're shooting. Of course, you don't get any sort of protection out in the field. I've pointed this out, but no one seems to like listening to my suggestions. Feliks and Alfred should be out in a minute or so. Remember, we're leaving for Frankfurt tonight. When you're done here, come back to our room and I'll help you pack. Have fun!" With a small wave, she went back inside.

Natalya went over to the box Elizabeta had gestured to and selected a pink ear protector. She wondered how loud guns were. Could they really cause her to blow out her eardrums? This nugget of information was a little scary. She liked her ears. She certainly didn't want to lose her hearing.

"Hey, Natalya!"

She looked up when she heard a voice call her name. Alfred, Feliks, and Tino stepped onto the range. Alfred must have been the one to call her, since he was waving. Natalya lifted a hand in response.

Feliks was the first to approach her. He removed the gun from his side holster and showed it to her. "This is a P-83 Wanad 9x18mm Makarov semi-automatic pistol," he explained. "It has an eight-round box magazine. That means there are eight bullets in each magazine. Pass me one of those ear protectors." When Natalya did as she was told, Feliks continued, "It's very important to hold the gun properly. Make sure it's at arm's length. Aim, look through the sights, and squeeze the trigger." He put on the ear protector, then, making sure Natalya was watching, aimed the gun at one of the targets and fired. He hit the target perfectly.

Natalya was in awe. She was just as shocked when Feliks gave the pistol to her. Without a word, he pointed at the target. Natalya sighed quietly and adjusted her hands on the pistol. Then she bit her lip, took aim, and pulled the trigger.

She completely missed the target. Her hands jerked from the blowback, and she let out a small shriek of surprise.

Feliks shook his head. "Well, your shooting definitely needs some work," he said. He glanced at his watch. "I'm behind on paperwork, so I need to go back inside. I'm sure Alfred or Tino can help you out." Taking his gun back, he went back into the building.

Natalya rubbed her wrists, which were sore from the blowback. She jumped less than a second later when she heard a loud gunshot, and she turned. Tino had just taken a shot with his rifle. He aimed and fired again. Both shots hit the centre of the target.

Alfred noticed Natalya's curiosity and moved closer to her. "He's pretty good, huh?" he said. "I guess that's what happens when you have military training."

"Are you any good?" Natalya asked.

"I'll show you." Alfred's gun was a different make than Feliks'. He took aim and fired. His shot just barely missed the target's centre. Making a face, he shrugged and shook his head. "I'm usually better than that."

Natalya tapped her foot against the ground. Then she said, "You know, I'm curious. Why did you join this...whatever it is you call it?"

"The Agency? That's a long story," Alfred replied. "I don't remember exactly how I found out about it, but I thought it sounded neat. I only completed my training about six months ago. Just so you know, full training takes about a year. Anyway, they said that they wanted an 'international' team, so I guess that's why they let me join. Kiku, too. And now I'm here. There are other teams in other countries, too. Elizabeta has a contact who's part of a team in Germany, and there are ones in Italy, Norway, and Canada as well. I don't know why there are so many."

"Have there been any other people who were part of this team?"

Alfred nodded. "There was an...incident a few months back. I'm not at liberty to talk about it, but Elizabeta was involved. It really messed her up. She tried to kill herself after it was over. In order to get her back to normal, they put her on a bunch of medication."

 _That might explain her twitching..._ Natalya took some time to formulate her next question. "Do you like it here?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's not a bad place. As long as you do what they tell you, you won't get into trouble. Hey, you want to practice shooting with my gun?"

"Sure." Taking Alfred's gun, Natalya braced herself and aimed at the target. She took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.

Once again, she completely missed the target.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Iris  
Rating: T  
Pairing: None**

 **Wow, it's taken me forever to update. I've been going through some stuff (nothing you want to hear), so that's why. But I have a special treat: Two chapters posted today! That's a first!**

 _October 7, 1993, train to Frankfurt_

"So what's this contact of yours like?" Natalya asked, taking a bite of bread. She and Elizabeta were sitting across from each other in the dining car of a very fancy express train. Natalya had never been on a train before. She enjoyed everything about it. There were people who were respectful to her and called her "Miss". When they took her order, Elizabeta told her that she could get whatever she wanted. So naturally she ordered borscht, pork chops, and boiled potatoes. Her food came with unlimited bread. She was thrilled.

Elizabeta took a delicate sip from the wine glass in her hand. "Well, he's interesting, to say the least. He can definitely be a little bit obnoxious at times, though." She smiled. "But he's sweet. I'm sure you'll like him."

Natalya looked out the window. She enjoyed watching the scenery rush past. She suddenly realized that she didn't speak German, which she pointed out to Elizabeta.

"Don't worry," Elizabeta said. "He speaks Russian, too. And I'm sure you'll pick up a little bit of German. The more languages you speak, the better. I started this job speaking only Hungarian, and now I'm fluent in five languages."

"Wow." Natalya rested her head against the window. She was tired. Her eyes slowly shut, and she yawned. _I won't sleep... I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes... Just for a few..._

The next thing she knew, Elizabeta was shaking her awake. "We're here. Get up." Natalya groaned and sat up. Her neck was stiff, likely from leaning against the window. She barely had time to reorient herself when her bag was thrown at her and she was pulled to her feet. She uttered a cry of confusion as Elizabeta dragged her toward the exit.

The train platform was packed with people. Most seemed to be traveling separately, but there were a few pairs and small groups here and there. Some were practically shouting in order to be heard over the noise of incoming and outgoing trains. The smell of the engine was nauseating. Despite being in a new place, Natalya was relatively calm. She had grown up surrounded by people. Of course, she had to restrain herself from instinctively picking pockets.

Elizabeta for her part seemed quite agitated. Her eyes were darting around, and she kept clenching and unclenching her fist.

As they made their way off the platform, Natalya was bumped by a man trying to get around her. She looked up. The man was looking right back at her. He was very tall and broad with light-coloured hair. He seemed as though he could easily frighten anyone, but Natalya wasn't intimidated. She didn't break eye contact. Beside her, Elizabeta muttered, "Oh, shit."

After a time, the man shrugged and continued on his way. He turned around a corner and disappeared from view.

Natalya stared after him. Something about him intrigued her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Well, there was no use mulling over it now. She did, however, wonder why Elizabeta had reacted like that.

The crowd eventually began to thin out, and Elizabeta scanned the remaining people. She pointed and said, "He's over there."

Natalya followed Elizabeta's finger to a well-dressed man reading a newspaper by the ticket booth. His hat partially obscured his face. Every once in a while, he glanced around. When he finally looked up and saw Elizabeta, he tucked his newspaper under his arm and approached.

Natalya drew back slightly. She was anxious around new people, and in a foreign country her fear only grew stronger. She was even more alarmed as the man came closer and she caught sight of his dark red eyes. _What the hell...?_ Natalya suddenly recognized his face. He was the one in Elizabeta's photo.

Elizabeta's expression remained terse. Her grip on Natalya's arm tightened.

"Liese! Lange nicht gesehen!" the man exclaimed. "Wie geht's?"

With a slight grimace, Elizabeta shook her head and replied in hurried German. As she spoke, she gestured to Natalya.

She must have explained the language barrier, for almost immediately the man turned to Natalya with a smile and said in near-perfect Russian, "Nice to meet you. I don't know if Liese here has told you, but my name's Gilbert. Welcome to Germany!"

"Nice to meet you, too," Natalya said. She gave a small bow.

"Look, we can go through formalities later," Elizabeta said. "We have to get away from here. I saw Antonov. He was on the same train as we were. I'm not sure if he recognized me, but he looked right at Natalya. We might be compromised."

The smile quickly disappeared from Gilbert's face. "We can't talk here," he said in a low voice. "Let's go back to my place. It'll be safe there." He turned and began to walk away, and Elizabeta and Natalya followed him.

The walk was quiet. Natalya was surprised at how few people were out. A car or two passed by, but there were no buses or trams. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought the city was abandoned. Was it normal for the streets to be so empty?

At length the trio reached a small apartment block, and Gilbert pointed to an adjacent alley. "Go around back and wait," he instructed. "I'll meet you there." Then he gave a quick look around and went through the front door.

"You heard him. Come on." With her hand still gripping Natalya's arm, Elizabeta moved toward the alley. Natalya was dragged along. She was confused and a bit frightened, but she opted to stay quiet.

The alleyway was filthy, in stark contrast to the street. Garbage littered the cobblestones, and a nearby trashcan appeared to be home for a family of stray cats. Something about the whole situation was slightly unnerving to Natalya, and she wrenched her arm free from Elizabeta's grasp and demanded, "What's going on? What's with all the secrecy?"

Elizabeta seemed taken aback, but within seconds she had her hand on the butt of her gun. Her eyes narrowed. "Don't do anything stupid," she said, her voice low and intimidating.

"You want to shoot me? Go ahead." Natalya spread her arms in defiance. "It's not like anyone will miss me if I die."

There was a moment of tense silence. In the back of her mind, Natalya wished that Elizabeta would just get it over with and shoot her. Then she wouldn't have to deal with any more of this. She waited for the burning bullet to pierce her chest.

But it never happened. The back door of the building opened, and Natalya heard Gilbert say, "Whoa, am I interrupting something?"

"No." With her eyes still locked on Natalya, Elizabeta motioned to the door. "Are you coming with us?" she asked.

 _I guess I don't really have much of a choice._ Natalya lowered her arms to her sides. Then, after glancing around, she gave a slow nod. There wasn't anything else she could do.

 _ **A/N:**_ **Sorry for taking so long to update.**

 **Lange nicht gesehen! Wie geht's? (German, obviously) - Long time no see! How's it going?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author: MercurialLily  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Title: Iris  
Rating: T  
Pairing: None**

 _October 7, 1993, Frankfurt_

Gilbert's apartment was small but impeccably neat. The furniture in the main room consisted of a small sofa, two chairs, and a coffee table. The windows looked out onto the street. The blinds were partially drawn. A pair of binoculars and a camera sat on the ledge.

"Do either of you want anything?" Gilbert asked as he locked the door. Natalya took note of the deadbolt.

"Nothing for me, thanks," Elizabeta said. "If you don't mind, I'm going to freshen up a bit. That train ride felt like an eternity." She turned and went down the hall.

Gilbert turned to Natalya. "How about you?"

"Oh, just water, please," Natalya replied. She awkwardly shuffled her feet and looked down at the ground. She had no idea what else to do or say.

Luckily for her, Gilbert seemed to sense her apprehension, and he said, "You can go sit down if you want. I'll get your water."

"Thank you." With a small bow, Natalya moved further into the apartment. She decided to sit in one of the chairs. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but it was fine. She folded her hands in her lap and chewed on her bottom lip. _Why did I have to come here as well? Elizabeta would've been fine by herself. Well, maybe not. She was really jumpy on the train. And that guy at the station... Who was he? What did Elizabeta mean, 'We might be compromised'? Why aren't they telling me anything?_

"Here you go."

She jumped and looked up. Gilbert was standing in front of her, a glass of water in his hand. Natalya took the glass and quietly said, "Thanks."

"No problem," Gilbert said, taking a seat on the couch. "Liese should be back soon."

"Why do you call her that?"

"What? Liese?"

"Yeah."

"It's a nickname," Gilbert explained. "German, of course. I've called her that for as long as I've known her. She's the one who told me I could use it. It's easier than calling her by her full name."

"Oh."

"Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself?" Gilbert suggested. "All I know is your name."

Natalya gave a small sigh. "I'm from Belarus. Minsk. I'm seventeen. My parents died when I was young. Somehow I got by on my own. Then I believe it was yesterday when I was unceremoniously kidnapped and dragged to Warsaw. I didn't appreciate that." She took a sip of water. "You know, I'm really getting sick of that story. Now you tell me something."

Gilbert laughed slightly and shrugged. "Sure, why not? It's only fair. Hi, Gilbert Beilschmidt, nice to meet you. Born and raised in East Berlin. Well, it's just plain Berlin now, isn't it? I'll be twenty-three in a couple of months. And I know you're curious, but you're probably too afraid to ask. So I'll just tell you." He leaned forward. "My white hair and red eyes? That's caused by a little something called albinism. Not as cool as it sounds. It's a pain in the ass when people gawk and stare, but whatever. It's no big deal, I suppose. There are others who have it worse."

"...Huh."

"What are you guys talking about?" Elizabeta strode into the room, running her fingers through her hair. She sat down on the couch and leaned against Gilbert.

"Nothing much," Natalya said, glancing down at her glass.

There was a brief bit of silence before Gilbert glanced at Elizabeta and said, "You mentioned Antonov before, right?"

Elizabeta nodded. "Yep. I saw him on our train. I don't know where he got on, but he definitely got off here. He didn't seem to be following us, but it's still cause for alarm."

"Right."

"Um, who is this Antonov guy?" Natalya asked. "Because I have no idea what you're talking about."

Gilbert reached for some files that lay on the coffee table. He went through them and pulled out a black-and-white photograph, which he handed to Natalya. "This is him. We know he uses a lot of aliases, so we use a code name. All we really know for sure is that he's Russian."

Natalya took a look at the photograph. It was very low-quality, but she recognized the man from the train station.

"Four months ago, we were on a high-profile mission in Vienna," Elizabeta explained. "My partner is this operation was a Czech girl named Viktoria. She's the one you saw in the photo back in Warsaw. Gilbert was partnered with another agent. Our mark was apparently hiding out in an old warehouse, so that's where we went. At some point, Viktoria and I got separated. When I found her, she was dying from a gunshot wound to the chest. She was able to tell me that she'd been shot by one of our agents who went rogue. I tried to save her, but..." She looked down. "I couldn't."

"We learned later that this guy Antonov was doing business in Vienna around that time. Our intel was also able to find out that the rogue agent moved to Moscow in the days following the incident and hasn't left since," Gilbert said. "So we thought maybe there was a connection. More recently, Liese went to Russia to try and get close to Antonov's people. Things got kind of messy -"

"Yes, I almost died," Elizabeta interrupted. "We've been over this. Long story short, I saw our rogue there. So our theory was proven correct. But I never expected to see Antonov here..."

"What are you going to do?" Natalya asked.

"What else can I do? Tread carefully. Make sure I don't accidentally fuck something up. I'll feel safer once we're back in Warsaw. At least there we have guards and snipers. There's not a lot of security here."

"Oh, don't forget that we have a thing tomorrow," Gilbert said. "We can go over the plan in the morning."

Elizabeta nodded slowly. Then she glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Is it really that late?"

Natalya tilted her head. "Are you tired?"

"This kid slept on the train," Elizabeta explained to Gilbert. "I still don't know how. That train was so loud."

Gilbert looked over at Natalya. "You don't mind spending the night out here, do you? I only have one bed."

Natalya shook her head. "I'll be fine," she said.

"See you in the morning." Elizabeta got to her feet. She pulled Gilbert up along with her, and the two of them left the room. After a minute, Natalya heard a door close.

Natalya spent some time sitting quietly in the small room, gazing at nothing in particular. She could faintly hear Elizabeta giggling through the wall. She wasn't used to this sense of isolation. When she'd lived on the streets, she'd always had a feeling that someone was watching her. But not here. It was strange. It had been less than two days, but everything had changed. For better or for worse, everything was different now.

 _ **A/N:**_ **Hopefully it won't take me as long to post the next chapter. Speaking of which, the action will start to pick up a bit soon, so please stay tuned! Thanks for reading!**


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